Investing Jesus-Style
based on Matthew 25:14-30
Rev. Karen A. Goltz
So
if I’m reading this right, Jesus is saying that if you’re entrusted with
large sums of someone else’s money, the right thing to do is to make a
bunch of risky investments, hoping great risks will yield great rewards,
and the wrong thing to do is to play it safe and hide the money where it
won’t be subject to market forces, ensuring that the principle won’t be
lost. Is that right? Then that settles it: Jesus is to blame for the
global financial meltdown.
That’s the good news for today. Amen.
Not quite.
In recent weeks, we’ve heard a parable
about lamp oil that had nothing to do with lamp oil. We’ve heard a
parable about a wedding garment that had nothing to do with clothes.
We’ve heard a parable about vineyards that had nothing to do with
grapes, and we’ve heard a parable about day laborers that had nothing to
do with day laborers. So even though today’s parable is about money and
investments, it should come as no surprise that it really has nothing to
do with investments or money.
There are plenty of interesting
questions this parable raises, but the most interesting question to me
is, who is God? Not who is God in this parable—most of us understand
God to be the master who went on the journey—but who is God to you? To
take a phrase from the twelve steps, who is the God of your
understanding?
It’s an important question to ask, and
not just for twelve steppers. Because how you answer that question
determines how you live in relationship with that God.
The third slave in our parable today
saw his master as harsh, possibly somewhat greedy, and demanding, and
therefore acted out of fear. He believed that the master’s wrath would
be great if any of the principle were lost, so he chose take what he
understood to be the safest course of action, and he hid the money out
of sight, out of mind, the quintessential buried treasure. And that
action of the slave’s helped determine the action of the master, and it
became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
This parable stands alone in the
gospel, with no ability to cross reference to see if this third slave’s
view of the master is correct. We don’t know if the master was indeed
harsh, greedy, and demanding; we only have the slave’s testimony that he
was. But there is some evidence in the parable itself that the slave
may have been somewhat misguided in his impressions of the master.
First of all, how harsh, greedy, or
demanding could he be if he entrusted so much money to three mere
slaves? It’s only an accident of the English language that ‘talent’ has
its own meaning separate from the actual, biblical one. This parable is
not talking about gifts or abilities; it’s talking about money, and a
lot of it. One talent is worth fifteen years’ wages for a laborer. In
modern terms, we’re talking roughly four hundred and fifty thousand
dollars. Per talent. The master entrusted a total of eight talents
with his slaves, or about 3.6 million dollars. The first slave got two
million, two hundred fifty thousand, the second slave got nine hundred
thousand, and the third slave got four hundred fifty thousand. What
kind of harsh, greedy, demanding person entrusts that kind of money to
three unskilled houseworkers?
The next bit of evidence is in the
actions of the first two slaves. They didn’t act out of fear. They
acted out of hope and expectation. They were given a chance to shine,
and they took it. Yes, there were risks involved, but their view of the
master must have been such that they believed in his mercy if their
investments had gone sour. I mean, think about it: would you risk
someone else’s money if you feared negative consequences for failing? I
don’t think these guys acted rashly; I think they did their homework,
took well-researched, calculated risks, and tried to make responsible
investments. Those investments paid off for them. I kind of wish one
of the slaves had made some poor investments, or had timed the market
wrong, and had lost the money, so we could see how the master would have
reacted to that. But clearly the first two slaves were not paralyzed
with fear at the thought of that happening. The master of their
understanding was different from the master of the third slave’s
understanding, even though it was the same master.
The last bit of evidence that the third
slave may have been misguided is in the words of the master to the first
two slaves. “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been
trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things;
enter into the joy of your master.” Trustworthy. The master is not
joyful because of their success; he’s joyful because of their
trustworthiness. Success is never mentioned. They acted in good faith,
and it’s that good faith that’s rewarded. The third slave wasn’t
punished because he didn’t make any money; he was punished because he
didn’t act in good faith. He didn’t act in bad faith, either. He acted
in no faith. And that’s important, because this parable is talking
about the kingdom of heaven, not as it is on earth in some distant
future, but as it is on earth right now.
I said earlier that most of us
understand God to be the master in this parable, and that’s true, but I
don’t think it’s about God the Father. I think the master is God the
Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is telling his disciples that he is
about to go away for a while, entrusting all that he has to them to
manage, until he returns. We’re still waiting for that return, and
we’re still managing all that Jesus has given us.
So who is the God of your
understanding? Who is the Jesus of your understanding? Is he someone
that you’re afraid of, someone that you need to hide yourself from,
someone that’s going to judge you for your every little fault or
failure? Is he the company that you don’t see very often, so when you
do you put on your best clothes and be on your best behavior, and engage
in idle chitchat, avoiding everything of substance because it might
crack the veneer of acceptability you’ve affected? If that’s the Jesus
of your understanding, then by all means hide away the treasure he
entrusted to you, because I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when he
comes back and finds out it’s gone, or diminished, because of something
you did.
But let me tell you something. The
harsh, greedy, demanding Jesus that I just described is not the Jesus of
my understanding. The Jesus of my understanding sees that I’m capable
of a lot more than I give myself credit for, and has given me the tools
I need to work in his kingdom. He’s also given me a treasure, his holy
Word that he wants me to spread, his boundless love that he wants me to
invest. And the kingdom of heaven is not like Wall Street, where a
risky investment, or even a relatively safe one for that matter, might
lose most or all its value. The kingdom of heaven, the kingdom that is
here on earth right now, waiting for its completion with the return of
our King, never loses value. If you put something into it, you’re
guaranteed to get something out of it. The only way to lose is to not
participate at all.
The treasure is not, by rights, ours.
It’s God’s, and he has entrusted us to manage it. It’s not our success
he wants; it’s our faithfulness. Christ has died, Christ is risen,
Christ will come again. And until he does, let us trust that the future
is already in his hands. Let us risk and move in ways that are new and
maybe uncertain, sinning boldly as Luther would say, opening up our
lives and our talents for the sake of others. Let us practice justice
and mercy when the world calls for retribution and payback, and let us
do all this with no fear of failure. Because when Christ does return,
we will be reminded that the kingdom of heaven is not Wall
Street, and God’s love and the promise of his Word are not limited
commodities like common money, but the ultimate in renewable energy: the
more you give, the more you have. Amen.